Trickle

Despot queen, on her throne,
Her fearsome will grips the land
Heads of the enemy on a platter,
Warfield sand still on hair strands
Sickening gift to tune the queen’s face,
Into an indeed, twisted smile
The violent desires of our ancestors,
Have trickled down onto their children
The desire to destroy, to make things bleed,
Cook a dish of blood and bone in a cursed old cauldron
The hearts of half the magnificent world,
Fail to find ease in the art of peace
Thoughts on the path of selfish want,
Revenge is empty unless he bleeds

The bearded king, at the heart of battle,
The sparkling sword his right hand wields,
The war is not over till dominance is proved,
Terminate the opposition, plunder the gold fields
Outrageous human, wants the whole Earth,
What more does he own than the ground his feet cover?
The greed of our ancestors, have trickled onto their children,
Gain more land, kill all in the way, foe, friend or lover
Wealth has no value if it costs scarlet blood,
Why the wealth of stones than that of peace?
Why the wealth of metals than that of love?
But no! Bring the other king down on his knees

The raging tempest brings sorrowful news,
The mother of the Earth is in great distress
Her most beautiful child has cruelly betrayed her,
Gambling with the Earth, like pawns in chess
The rage of the heavens trickles down upon the land,
The rocks are rebelling, the seas in outrage
Violence feeds the forgotten souls,
Love locked up in a ten-foot cage
Look, they condition the new born child,
To be like every other, to repeat mistakes of old
And one great poet who was born in a palace,
Died in the gutter, because he was bold

Misery drizzles gently upon the land,
Sorrow trickles into the heart of humanity
And after the needle has crossed the last minute,
All races won on Earth will be of vanity
Where the energy that was, is now no one knows
But all that remains is a feast for the ants
And it don’t matter what last respects you give,
He might go to hell, don’t bury him in cotton pants
All left of a man, are the deeds of love he did,
For love has the knack to create an eternal memory
End the old violence, and the desire for lifeless stones,
Feel the Earth’s blessings, trickle upon you in a flurry